Santos e Spiritos
by Pixieblade
Summary: A little musing in freestyle poetic form. Enjoy! First WK fic-ish thing!
1. Santos e Spiritos

**Santos e Spiritos**  
Weiss Kreuz

Aya/Yohji

Flashing vermilion - tropic bromeliad - poisoned delight

Kiss to frozen lips – free the caged beast inside

Stilted emotions – revelations mask desire

Banked beneath a Lazarian complex

Unsure of the shifting sands

Your heart, a masquerade of gilded mirrors

Reflecting outward – my fear and truth

Awaken me, o'Prince, from this night terror

I thrash in my horror – your face dripping wet life into a lake of doubt

Stolen breath, met with fervent wishes

Lock up my conscious mind away from the darkness

Your glory upon my brow, your fingers in my hair

Chipped emeralds glisten above sakura softness

Dewy and warm they catch my breath

O'thief of dreams, my fantasies are mine alone

This portal I have sealed shut on rusty hinges –

Hidden behind a crimson curtain, blood speckled and cracked

My life in your hands, Puck, and I am a fool for believing such a knave as you

I am a fool, but you are Apollo and mine eyes are burned


	2. Flashing vermilion – tropical bromeliad

**Flashing vermilion – tropical bromeliad – poisoned delight**

Yohji sighed, his head resting on the cool wooden counter top as he toyed absently with a pencil. Aya was across the room putting the final touches on a special order- a tropical bromeliad. Its tongue-like leaves a glossy emerald, its waxy petals a flushed rose. The quiet man was quick and efficient, every movement economical in its use of energy expanded.

His eyes at half-mast, Yohji leered at the line of red nail marks showing below the hem of that garish orange sweater. He licked his lips in memory of pinning the younger man against the dresser and thrusting up into delicious tight, clenching heat. His body flushed as the sound of a strangled gasp reverberated in his mind's eye. He bit his lip to stifle a moan and then cursed out loud, tumbling from his perch on the stool. The overhead lights glinted off quivering pruning shears sticking straight up where his cheek had rested moments before.

"What the fuck?" he shouted angrily, running a hand irritated through his loose hair in agitation.

Aya narrowed his eyes, glaring at the blond over his shoulder while he tugged his sweater lower. "Shi-ne, Kudoh, shi-ne." he hissed.

Yohji couldn't help but chuckle at the red tinge of embarrassment on his lover's cheeks as he turned back to his work.


	3. Kiss to frozen lips

**Kiss to frozen lips – free the caged beast inside**

"Takatori!"

Aya sat in a crumpled heap, his hurled blade clattered to the ground across the roof. He was so over this he couldn't even work up the energy to curse Yohji as the blond pulled him to his feet and looped a bloody arm around his waist. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Omi retrieve his sword, Ken falling in beside the teenager silently.

Silent-they were all like that. Too far gone with pain and despair; too far removed from the feeling of being 'human' to care for anything but the closeness of another; their own thoughts an enemy to their sanity.

He turned in Yohji's loose embrace as the building exploded spectacularly and sighed wearily; too tired to even fight when Yohji's fingers slipped into his hair and gently coaxed his head onto a well-muscled but lean shoulder. There were words for his ears only then. Yohji's lips brushing the top of his head as the blond spoke brokenly. A soft, quiet story that made Aya's throat thick and breath catch.

He glanced up-misty emerald eyes caught his, the tenderest of kisses against cracked and bleeding lips and groaned as those fingers tightened in his hair, cradling him, pulling him closer. He shouldn't be doing this, but for those precious few moments he felt more 'human' than he had since his Aya-chan's accident. Yohji made him feel human and there was no way he was going to give that up.

He kissed harder.


	4. Stilted emotions

**Stilted emotions; revelations mask desire**

The kiss hadn't been planned. He wouldn't lie though; some part of him had always wanted Aya in his arm. In his bed splayed out naked beneath him writhing in pleasure. He just never thought it'd actually happen. He tried to keep it cool, to act and move and speak like he was with anyone else – to keep his distance.

He failed.

Aya wasn't just another fuck. He wasn't a pretty-faced one night stand. Aya was a brand upon his heart and soul. He left marks of possession in parallel lines down his back; left bruises along his throat.

There was blood. There had to be their first time; they were covered in it after all, it'd be too much of a lie if there wasn't any now. But beneath the blood-in spite of it, there was a desire too strong to hold back, a desperation that simmered beneath the surface. They always knew and that was why they hadn't, because when they finally awoke they knew there would be no going back.

They didn't know how to anymore.


	5. Banked Beneath a Lazarian Complex

**Banked Beneath a Lazarian Complex**

"Damnit, Aya!"

Omi glanced up from his breakfast and rolled his eyes as Yohji stomped into the kitchen. The older man had a crumpled cigarette hanging loosely from full, pouting lips, his signature tinted glasses shoved up into messy, bed rumpled blond hair. The button on his jeans was undone and from what the teen could see he wasn't wearing any underwear—again. He sighed and bit into his toast; prodding a cup of black coffee across the table.

"Thanks, kiddo," he mumbled against the cup rim.

"I'm going to regret asking, but what happened now?"

Yohji grimaced and rubbed his left bicep. "Damn cat bit me is what!" he snarled and rubbed a rather impressive set of teeth marks across his tattoo.

"Hmph. I'm surprised he hasn't before now," he replied calmly.

He stuck his tongue out. "I'm not feeling the love, Omi, what do you enjoy seeing me bleed or something?"

"No, I just think he's shown remarkable restraint not doing something like this before now."

"And how do you figure that?"

Omi sighed, "For someone who prides himself at being able to read people, you're really slow with your own boyfriend. No wonder poor Aya is forced to bite and curse you all the time."

He slathered some more jelly on his toast and then pointed the knife at his thick headed friend, the strawberry jam glistening like fresh shed blood.

"Why do you think he bit you _there_ of all places? Why do you think he _always_ bites you there? Of all of us you know Aya's the least secure in his emotions. Heck, Yohji, aren't you his first real relationship? He keeps biting you on the tattoo because he's trying to prove something, to you, to himself, probably even the dead and you're gonna give him shit for that?" He took a big bite of toast and mumbled around the mouthful, blue eyes flashing, "You suck."

Yohji rubbed strong fingers into his eyes and then stood, groaning.

"I did not just get schooled by a teenager. Eat your toast and go to class." He grumbled, dumping his cup in the sink.

Omi narrowed his eyes, "And where are you going?"

Pausing in the doorway Yohji rubbed the new scars over his old wound and smiled softly, "I'm gonna go get bit some more. Thanks kiddo."

Omi hmphed and swallowed the last of his toast, grabbing his bag as he headed for the door. Smiling at the yelp of pain that echoed down the hallway he murmured under his breath, "Morons," and closed the door behind him.


	6. Unsure of the Shifting Sands

**Unsure of the Shifting Sands**

Aya paced his room. Every few minutes he'd stop and snarl as he abused another piece if furniture, or worse, his poor hair. Yohji had to be the biggest idiot he's ever met.

'But what does that make you?'

Lips curled back he snarled at his own traitorous thoughts and kicked at his reading chair.

"It's not like I thought he'd ever get rid of the damn thing." he huffed, long fingers flat against the window sill. "He can do whatever he wants-see if I give a damn."

Resting his head against the cool glass he screwed his eyes shut, resolute that he wouldn't lose it again.

"Fuck," he growled.

"You called, love?"

His growl turned into a whimper as he cursed his stupidity; he'd forgotten to lock the door in his anger.

"You left in a bit of a huff...cooled down yet?"

"Get the hell out of my room, Kudoh."

"No can do, we need to talk." The blond replied flippantly as he settled into the foot of the bed. Aya watched in the reflection as he pulled his glasses off and set them on the nightstand.

"Just go away, Yohji, I'm not in the mood."

"Cat, if I waited until you were 'in the mood' we'd never talk." Sighing, he reached out and wrapped long fingers around Aya's wrist, pulling him closer.

"Look, just tell me what's going on in that messed up head of yours, will you?"

Aya yanked back on his captured wrist, growling softly when he failed to break his lover's grip.

"The tattoo; is that what's got you so snitty lately?" Yohji guessed, watching Aya's eye slide to his bare shoulder and away.

"No." The red-head relied curtly.

"Yeah, you suck at lying, know that? Look, I've told you before, you're the only one I love now."

Green eyes narrowed as he received silence to his declaration.

"For fucks' sake, fine, come with me!" Surging from the bed, Yohji dragged Aya down the hall to the bathroom and stormed inside. "Fine, if that's what the problem is I'll just get rid of it right now."

"Yahji wha..." Aya gasped as a tan hand flipped back the cover on his razor. He quickly slapped the blade away with his free hand, screaming out as he did.

"What the hell's wrong with you!"

Yohji twisted Aya's arm savagely, crowding the smaller man backwards into the wall and kicked the door shut on Omi and Ken's anxious faces.

"Get out of here Kenken and take Omi with you, this is between Aya and me!" he hollered through the door.

Aya's face twisted as his arm was bent, his breath coming out in a pained hiss. Yohji noticed and eased up on his hold but didn't release the other.

"Aya?" Omi's tentative voice was muffled by the wooden door, but his concern was clear enough.

"It's fine, go."

As the footsteps retreated he glared at Yohji, "Let me go."

"No. Not until you listen to me you ungrateful little cat."

"Ungrateful?" Aya spat the word like it was poison. "What the hell am I being ungrateful for?"

"Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to get up the fucking courage to come back in here after getting bit all to hell last night?"

Aya glared at the tile floor with its pretty orange rag rug.

Yohji snarled and used his free hand to jerk Aya's face upward, staring into those deep violet eyes as he tried to convey more than words ever could.

"Do you have any idea how much effort it takes to figure out what the hell you're thinking, feeling? Half the time I'm just praying I won't step on some inscrutable Aya land mind that will send you running from me and the other half I'm just trying to keep up with all that passion you've pounded down into some tight little ball inside of you."

"So what do you want me to do about that?" Aya hissed eyes flashing.

"'What do I want?' I want you to fucking talk to me like I'm not some god-damned annoyance. If you hadn't noticed, I'm in love with you, you paranoid little freak. You, no one else, so if you could stop being all wigged out about a fucking ghost and talk to me maybe we could move on for a change."

Throughout Yohji's tirade Aya had stayed mostly silence, merely hissing or glaring in turns, now though he spoke, his voice deep and rough with emotion.

"I'm not upset about the tattoo."

"Excuse me? Than what the hell's with turning my arm into a chew toy?"

Aya blushed faintly, but if it was from embarrassment or anger Yohji couldn't tell.

"I wanted to mark you I guess."

"You guess?" The blond sighed, releasing Aya's arm. "Love, you might not have noticed but I've got plenty of marks from you. You've got some pretty sharp claws on you, I'll have you know."

Aya looked confused as Yohji straightened and turned his back on the red-head.

Making a little startled sound, half gasp, half sigh he inched closer, his fingers light and hesitant as he ran them down the eight parallel lines running along either side of Yohji's spine.

Watching in the mirror the blond smiled. "Satisfied with your marks of ownership yet, or do I need to worry about my poor shoulder some more?"

Aya frowned into the mirror, then in an uncharacteristic display of affection, rose on his toes and placed a light kiss on the side of his neck.

"No, these are good." He smiled possessively and without warning bit down hard on the crook of Yohji's neck, making the older man cry out in shock and pain. Blood dribbled down his chin and Yohji's back.

He grinned wolfishly at Yohji's reflection before slipping out of the bathroom, "Those are better though."

As the door slipped shut again Yohji groaned, "Damn little cat." There was a smile on his lips as he cleaned up, a playful Aya was much better than a brooding Aya by far and now that he knew what the problem was…well, a man could hope, couldn't he?


	7. Your heart a masquerade of gilded mirror

**Your heart, a masquerade of gilded mirrors**

"I can't figure him out."

"Who?" Ken asked, wandering into the flower shop.

Glancing up Yohji gave him a look that clearly said 'who the hell do you think, idiot?'

"What was a possibly thinking, like you'd have anyone on your mind but Aya? What'd he do this time?"

Sighing Yohji twirled a daisy in his fingers and smiled through the glass at the parade of middle-schoolers. They were so cute at that age, he mused distractedly.

"Earth to Yohji, I know there's not a lot holding that pretty head of yours on, but try and focus on a conversation you started at least, will you?"

"Look you, I wasn't exactly talking to anyone to begin with. I was just saying how I can't figure out Aya's moods lately. Half the time he's pissed at me and the other half he's leading me down the road to debauchery."

Ken snorted, "I think maybe you've got that last one backwards, friend."

"No, seriously, for once it's not me chasing him; I swear he's a finicky as a damn cat."

"Isn't that why you called him that to begin with?"

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean I wanted him to turn into one."

"I think he was probably like this to begin with, Yohji. I mean, he's not had it easy, right, with his sister and all that. You can't blame him for being a bit unpredictable."

"Hmpf."

"Just give him his space and he'll be fine."

"I'd rather jump him and get this over with."

"Just don't do it in the greenhouse or you'll be missing body parts."

Yohji snorted as he arose from the stool and headed for Aya's sanctuary.


	8. Reflecting Outward

**Reflecting outward—my fear and truth**

**Awaken me, o'Prince, from this night terror**

Aya wasn't in the greenhouse. He wasn't in the kitchen or the living room. He tried the meeting room—nothing; nor was he in the bathroom. He wasn't even in his room, which was about the time Yohji got really worried. He ran room to room, Omi's and Ken's were empty, and there was no reason he'd be in Yohji's, but…

"-chan…no…" the sound was fainter than a whisper, but Yohji was so revved up by this point he heard it. He cracked the door to his room, peering into the half dark room. His blinds were down, which, honestly, he never bothered with. A stifled gasp, a choked cry that might have been a name, came from his bed.

Stepping into the room he almost smiled. Aya was curled up in a little ball in the very center of the bed, the sheets wrapped around him like some silken cocoon. Stepping up beside the bed he reached out, hand stopping centimeters from a thin shoulder as Aya groaned in pain.

Yohji frowned as he gingerly touched his lover's head, brushing back the long bangs that obscured those unusual violet eyes; eyes that were now regarding him with a weary-sleepiness.

"Aya, cat, you were having a nightmare, you alright now?"

Aya blinked slowly a few times before nodding minutely; stretching his long form like the cat he was named after. When Aya was laying in the bed properly Yohji toed off his house slippers and sat beside him, shifting about until Aya's head was tucked under his chin, his head on Yohji's chest.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No."

He sighed softly, had he really expected anything else from his taciturn boyfriend? He tried another tactic, one less likely to involve spilt blood or bruised ribs.

"Think you can get back to sleep?"

"No."

"Alright, then we'll just lay here, think you can manage that oh monosyllabic one?"

"Omph!" Yohji's breath fled as a bony elbow was promptly jabbed into his ribs. Guess he didn't succeed too well, after all.

"It wasn't a nightmare."

Yohji did the smart thing and stayed quiet.

"It wasn't a nightmare. It was…it was a memory." Aya curled up closer beside him, thin arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

"The explosion?" he whispered softly. Ever since they'd found out about Aya's past Yohji had known this day would come, he just hadn't realized it would come so soon.

Aya nodded and sighed raggedly against a tan chest, fingers playing with a loose strand of golden hair.

"It's so hard, knowing I can't help her."

"You do though. Aya, you've done everything for her sake, what more do you think you have to give to make her happy?"

"I just want her to be safe; happy."

"We'll get the bastard, don't worry." Yohji kissed the top of his head, holding him closer. Yohji heard the clock downstairs bong loudly around lunch time and knew he was going to get hell from Ken for skipping work, but Aya took priority. Now if only he could think of a way to get rid of the nightmares completely.


End file.
